


Don't Take That Sinner from Me

by lforevermore



Series: Hail Mary [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (kind of), Cunnilingus, F/M, First Time, Namely sex, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, This is just a feel good fic, Triggers, Where Darcy and Bucky work out a bunch of stuff, romantic sex, safe sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 02:27:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14486781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lforevermore/pseuds/lforevermore
Summary: It's been some time since they were kidnapped. Darcy and Bucky find their way back to each other.





	Don't Take That Sinner from Me

**Author's Note:**

> The ending is a little rushed, but I feel good about this. Check me out at inmywildernesswriting.tumblr.com

For pretty much all intents and purposes, Darcy and Bucky are happy. Darcy’s doing well in therapy, taking her medications every day, and the depression and anxiety has eased off for the most part – it still crops up and rears its ugly head when she’s left alone for too long, but Bucky doesn’t take weeks-long missions anymore, and besides, Darcy’s got Violet now.

Violet Elizabeth Lewis Barnes is six months old, now, meaning that it’s been a little less than a year since Darcy and Bucky were rescued from the bunker. She’s a happy baby, a healthy baby, and is pretty much perfect in every way. And that’s not even just proud-mom-Darcy talking, that’s the opinions of Helen and other doctors who say that there’s a very good chance that Bucky’s super-soldier-ness was passed right on down the line.

Violet’s existence is pretty much giving Darcy the push she needs to get out of her rut and really work to move past her trauma. She wants, after all, to be able to take her baby to the park without a panic attack, without worrying that every stranger is a HYDRA goon waiting to snatch them both off the street and disappear with them into another bunker where Darcy won’t see the sun for months again.

It’s one of her biggest fears.

But right now, Darcy doesn’t have to worry too much. They’re safe in the Tower, even if Bucky is off at SHIELD for the day. Darcy’s elbow-deep in dishwater while Jane keeps Violet entertained. Jane’s warmed up to the idea of Darcy and Bucky living together, especially because she sees how well they work together as a unit. Jane still worries, Darcy knows, and probably always will.

“Can I ask a question?” Jane says when Violet’s gone down for a nap and Darcy’s drying her hands on a dish towel.

“You just did, but I’m kind enough I’ll grant you another one.” Darcy sticks her tongue out – she’s been doing that lately, mannerisms that feel like her old self, snarky and loud and a little bit brash.

Jane looks thoughtful, though, and a little apprehensive. She sits at the kitchen table, and Darcy joins her, resting her cheek on her fist and waiting for Jane to articulate whatever it is she wants to ask. The thing about Jane and Darcy is that there are _no_ secrets – Jane knows things that Darcy will never tell another soul, not even her therapist, and vice versa.

“I don’t want to overstep,” Jane finally says, carefully, “because I know that this is probably a touchy subject. And you don’t _have_ to talk about it, okay? It’s not going to hurt my feelings if you tell me to fuck off on this one.”

“Janey, stop worrying,” Darcy says. “I guarantee whatever you’re going to ask me, I will answer with utmost truth and honesty.”

“Well, I’m just curious, because you used to be pretty vocal about it and you haven’t been, and I’m worried, and –“

“Jane.”

Jane looks like she’s biting into a lemon when she asks. “How is your… intimate relationship with Bucky?”

Oh.

Darcy pauses. That’s a hard question.

“I mean,” Darcy starts, and then stops again. “We don’t… we don’t have one right now? Like, we sleep together, and we cuddle, and that’s good, I like that. We just… don’t have sex.”

Jane is nodding like she understands, and Darcy’s sure that she’s trying to understand, but Darcy’s also sure that Jane doesn’t get it. Jane’s never been forced to have rough, bruising sex every night for months, all while the camera watches – Jane’s never had to think about how she can’t hold the man she loves because he’s trying to be a brainwashed assassin. Jane is brilliant, and compassionate, and wonderful, but this is probably something that Jane will never completely understand.

“Do you want to?” Jane asks next, and oh boy, there’s a question for the ages.

“I’m not sure,” Darcy admits. “I mean, I’m not… I still have urges, I think? But the idea of acting on them is…” And Darcy pauses again, tries to collect her thoughts. “I’ve gotten _myself_ off since… getting home, but I really haven’t thought about trying to have sex with Bucky. I mean, Janey, what if I trigger myself? Or, God, what if it triggers him?”

“Well, have you talked to him about it?”

Darcy shakes her head. “It’s just one of those subjects we don’t discuss anymore. We don’t talk about what happened, we don’t talk about sex. Just seems like a big ol’ can of worms.”

Jane reaches over and folds their hands together. “Okay. I really was just worried – I’m not trying to push or anything.”

“I know,” Darcy says quickly. “I know that, Janey.”

Jane switches the subject to Thor and Asgard, and they carry on through the day like there was never even a bump in the road.

Except.

Now that Darcy’s started thinking about it, she can’t _stop_ thinking about it. She’s had to explain it to her therapist before, but the sex itself wasn’t the traumatic part – it was the way they were forced to do it and the situation surrounding them. And it’s not as though Darcy’s gone blind – she sees Bucky get out of the shower and _wants_ , but in an abstract way as though she knows she can’t have it. And now, here’s the thought that maybe, maybe she _can_ have it. Maybe she’s recovered enough, maybe _they’ve_ recovered enough that they can come together and enjoy each other on _their_ terms instead of HYDRA’s.

After that conversation, it pretty much takes over Darcy’s waking thoughts. She starts feeling sparks again, in the way that Bucky pulls her close when they settle in to sleep, in the strength of his arms and the gentle way he brushes her hair from her face before he kisses her. She cooks dinner and nearly drops the spatula when he curls around her from behind, as her mind goes places it hasn’t gone in a long time.

She starts picking up on other things too – the way that Bucky’s eyes go dark when she’s fresh from the shower, the way his hand lingers on her lower belly when they’re curled up in bed together, the way his eyes catch on her breasts before darting up to her eyes almost sheepishly. It gets her thinking that maybe he’s having the same kinds of thoughts and feelings. Maybe, just maybe, there’s more on the table than she thought.

They need to talk, that’s for sure.

 

Darcy lines up a babysitter for Violet. Steve’s pretty happy to take her pretty much anytime, dotes on her like Darcy supposes a super-soldier uncle should. He’s perfectly content to take her for the night – the whole night, because Darcy’s not entirely sure how this conversation is going to go.

There are a couple different ways, she supposes. The best possible way, Darcy thinks, is that they talk and fall into bed together and have wildly passionate sex, and neither of them are triggered or traumatized or anything. The worst possible way is that Darcy’s missed the mark somehow, and Bucky’s offended by her asking, and leaves her and the world ends or something. More than likely, it’s probably going to be that they talk most of the night and then go to sleep so they can wake up and pick up Violet in the morning – maybe with some sex thrown in there somewhere, but Darcy’s not sure.

Bucky comes home and finds Darcy in the kitchen. That’s one thing that’s new – Darcy hadn’t really enjoyed cooking before, but now that she’s not living off HYDRA meals, she finds she loves having the choice of what she eats and when she eats.

He leans down and presses a kiss between her shoulder blades, wraps his arms around her waist as she finishes sautéing the chicken. “Where’s my girl?” he asks, resting his chin on her shoulder.

Darcy goes for nonchalant. “Steve offered to take her for the night so we could talk.”

She must miss the mark completely, because Bucky stiffens, even if he doesn’t let her go. “So we can talk?” he asks, and sounds carefully blank, which she knows means that he’s worried.

“It’s nothing bad,” she assures him quickly, and turns off the burner on the stove. “It’s just something that’s been on my mind, and I think on yours too, and I figured we could talk about it without having to worry about Violet for the night.”

Bucky relaxes slowly, and it’s a testament to how much he trusts her, she thinks, because he simply makes an assenting noise, kisses her shoulder, and goes to get plates down for the both of them.

She doesn’t bring it up over dinner. Instead, they talk about the inane but still somehow important things, like their days and Violet and what’s going on in the Tower. It’s nice, Darcy thinks, to get an evening alone with Bucky, even if they have to talk about things that could potentially go awry. She’s been so busy being mom-Darcy for the past months that she’s not sure if she remembers how to be just plain old Darcy. Or sexy Darcy, for that matter.

It’s when they’re done cleaning up, and Bucky’s taking a seat on the couch that Darcy starts to fidget. Bucky notices, because of course he does, and pats the seat next to him with a comforting smile. “Come on, doll,” he says. “Whatever you need to say, get it out. Don’t bottle it up.”

So Darcy sits down, and laces their fingers together, and looks down at where they’re completely comfortable with their knees touching. It gives her a little bit of courage – they’ve gotten through _so much_ , they can get through a simple question.

“What do you…” she starts, and has to pause and start over. “What do you think about… sex? With me, I mean, not in general.”

Bucky blows out a breath and glances around the room in the way that he does when he’s thinking about his answer. He doesn’t pull his hand or his knee away, though, so Darcy doesn’t panic yet.

“I mean,” he finally says, sounding unsure of himself, like he’s afraid of saying the wrong thing. “I like the idea?”

And Darcy doesn’t know quite what to do with that, hadn’t really thought that far ahead.

“But, Darce,” Bucky starts, and he’s looking at her now, gaze piercing through her own. “With everything that happened… I mean, you’re still _recovering_ , I don’t want to do something that’s going to set that back, or make it worse, or… or scare you.” He looks away then, down at where their knees are still touching. “I think you’ve been scared enough for one lifetime. And I don’t think I could handle it if you were scared of me, again.”

“I trust you,” Darcy says, the words flying off her tongue before she can even think about them. “Bucky, you were the only thing that kept me going. As soon as I figured out what you were doing, I wasn’t scared – not of you, anyway. And I’ve been thinking about it, and I… I want _that_ with you.” Once she’s started, she just keeps plowing on, courage building. “And it’s, it’s on _our_ terms, not because HYDRA has some weird plan to knock me up. And we can stop anytime, and you can _hold_ me, and it doesn’t have to be rough unless we want it to be, and –“

Bucky stops her, hands coming up to frame her face, fingers in her hair. He’s wearing a lopsided grin, but Darcy can still see the worry and concern in his eyes. “Alright,” he says. “I’m willing to try it if you’re absolutely sure it’s what you want.”

“I’m sure,” she says, and then adds again, “I trust you.”

Then, he’s closing the space between them and pulling her into a kiss. It’s simultaneously familiar and nothing that Darcy’s ever felt before with him – between them, kisses had either had to be rough and clashing (during HYDRA) or, since they’d gotten back, practically chaste. And the thing is, Darcy knows that Bucky loves her, but for the first time it’s like she feels it, in the way that his tongue carefully glides against her own, in the way that he’s slowly stealing her breath, in the way that his arms come around her to pull her closer.

It’s heady, to say the least, and Darcy loses herself a little bit, brings her hands up to card through Bucky’s hair, to trace her thumbs down his jawline, down the muscles of his neck to his shoulders. When they pull away for air, Darcy realizes that Bucky’s eyes are dark, the greys and blues thin around where his pupils are blown wide with lust.

And, oh, Darcy _wants_.

She feels a heat curling in her belly that’s been absent for a long time. Even when she had alone time with herself, she hadn’t really felt arousal, at least not to this extent. The idea of Bucky’s hands on her is suddenly intoxicating.

“You’ll tell me if you need me to stop?” Bucky asks, low and soft, gentle like he’s afraid that she’s going to immediately back out. Like she’s young again and they’re in the back of his pickup truck for the first time. Like he’s never known her intimately. Maybe, Darcy thinks, this is their real first time, and she feels like her heart is going to burst.

“You know I will,” Darcy replies, just as soft, and starts to add that she trusts him again, but Bucky takes the chance to literally sweep her off her feet.

One second she’s sitting on the couch and another he’s hoisting her into the air, supporting her until she wraps her legs around his waist. It’s kind of surprising and flattering – she hasn’t lost the baby weight, doesn’t know that she ever will because her mother never did. It’s definitely sexy, and she loves the feeling of being suspended, being dependent on him and knowing that he’ll never, ever let her fall.

She kisses his neck as he walks her to the bedroom, and they almost make it, they’re right outside the door when Darcy nips at the skin, and then bites, digs her teeth in just a little bit, just the way that she would want him to bite her. Instead of their bed, Darcy’s back hit the wall, and Bucky draws her into another kiss, this one heated and gently biting instead of the chaste, loving ones that she’s used to from him.

Bucky doesn’t waste anymore time after that, carrying her through the door to the bedroom and laying her down on the bed, one hand behind her head as though to protect it. He’s over her, just like he’s been a dozen, a hundred times before, but this time it’s so different. This time, Darcy thinks, it’s _their_ bed, _their_ terms, and that’s what’s making all the difference, that’s what’s getting her going more than anything else.

Well, that, and the way that Bucky’s hand is gently caressing her neck, an up and down motion that’s slowly going to drive her mad. He meets her eyes and holds her gaze as his fingers drift down, gentle over the curve of her breast, to find the hem of her shirt. When her own hands join his, he grins, and shakes his head, pulling them away to rest them on the bed.

For a moment, with his hands wrapped around her wrists, she thinks of being held down. She finds that she likes the idea, and is surprised when nothing negative comes with the internal admission, no memories or emotional pain.

“I want to undress you, Darcy,” Bucky says, and it sounds like the best idea she’s ever heard. “I want to take my time with you. Do all the things I always wanted to and never could.”

She nods, unable to come up with anything to say to that other than assent. His hands once again find the hem of her shirt, and this time they pull up slowly, revealing the skin of her belly. To her surprise, his mouth follows, lips and teeth on the soft skin of her stomach, trailing up as he slides her shirt up to reveal her bare breasts. Darcy lets out a soft keen as he tongues at her right nipple, then a moan as Bucky bites down – just sharp enough, just enough pain to have her shivering underneath him.

It’s like her entire body is alight with sensation, and Darcy feels dizzy with it. She raises her arms when Bucky pulls the shirt over her head, feels her hair go from slightly-managed to wild, and Bucky grins a little and gives her suddenly-wild waves a gentle pet with his flesh hand. Then, fingers are curling in her hair and drawing her head to the side so that he can tongue and bite at her neck, until she’s letting out breathy sounds that mimic his name, until she’s sure that there will be marks to hide in the morning.

“Not fair,” she breathes when he pulls away from her neck. “You’re still dressed.”

“Because I’m not done with you, yet,” Bucky says, and his hands go to the waistband of her lay-around-the-house leggings, stripping them down and off of her legs before she has a chance to think.

Then, she’s there, and he’s above her, and she’s practically bare for him, just the thin layer of her panties shielding her from whatever comes next. And suddenly, Darcy is overwhelmed.

Bucky must see it in her face, because his expression morphs to concern, and his hands frame her cheeks. “Stay with me,” he says, and she nods, her own hands coming to hold at his. “It’s just me. Just the two of us, here, Darce.”

After a moment and a few deep breaths, she feels like the world settles. He’s right, after all, she’s safe in their bed, in the Tower, in his arms. “Okay,” she says. “Okay, I’m good.”

“You sure?” Bucky asks, and still sounds concerned. “Because we can stop, and go watch Netflix or something.”

“I want you,” Darcy says, angling her lips up for a kiss. Bucky doesn’t ask again, knows her so well, and knows that if she has to say it one more time she’ll feel more self-conscious than safe. She’ll gladly beg for him another night, she thinks, but tonight is all about learning each other for what she thinks is their first time.

Fingers, gentle, on the waistband of her panties, pulling them down her legs and tossing them away, and then she’s bare, exposed. Bucky keeps his gaze on hers as he parts her legs, fingertips tracing up from her knees to her thighs to her hips.

“Darcy,” Bucky says, and Darcy can hear her blood rushing in her ears – in a good way, and that’s important. “Can I taste you?”

Darcy’s answer is a choked moan, a breathy, “God, _yes_ ,” and then Bucky is dropping to his knees where Darcy’s are bent over the side of the bed, hands under her thighs drawing her closer to the edge until she could stand if she wanted to. Instead, she sits up, braces herself.

They’ve never had the chance for this, definitely not while in the HYDRA bunker, but she’s always wondered what it would be like, even before they were captured.

Bucky presses a kiss to her inner thigh, nips just a little bit, and she feels his fingers, soft in her folds, and she lets out a breathy sigh.

“God, you’re wet,” Bucky says, and she can feel his breath hot against her sex.

Darcy’s cheeks go hot and, she’s sure, red. “Hush,” she says. “You make me... _excited_.”

“Good,” Bucky says, fingers flexing on the flesh of her thighs, and then there’s the touch of his tongue to her clit. Darcy lets out a sound that can only be described as a whimper, and she grips at the bed, angles her hips, and holds on for the slow, tantalizing ride that Bucky sets for her.

It’s overwhelming, is what it is, in a way that’s so different from what she’s known from him. He apparently wasn’t lying about wanting to take his time, because he doesn’t rush, doesn’t try to hurry her, just deliberately delves inside her as he traces the outside of her sex with his fingers.

Darcy’s first orgasm hits her by surprise, enough that it literally jolts her. Bucky chuckles against her and doesn’t stop, doesn’t pull away, but doesn’t get too cocky – he stays the course, making sure that it doesn’t become too much stimulation, until she comes down just enough for him to slide one finger inside her.

“Bucky,” Darcy breathes, reaches to curl her fingers in his hair. “Bucky, baby, I _want_ you.”

“I know,” Bucky says, pulling away from her just enough to speak. “I know, but doll, it’s been so long, I don’t want to hurt you.” He takes the opportunity to slip another finger inside her, scissoring them and causing Darcy to let out another moan. Bucky gives a little grin, like the cat that got the canary, and twists his fingers – Darcy arches with a gasp of his name, legs quaking.

“Bucky,” Darcy says, with a little bit of a whine.

He chuckles, stands up, and starts to strip, pulling his shirt over his head. Darcy sits up fully as Bucky starts to unbutton his jeans and pull them away, and she thinks for a second that she’d love to go to her knees and taste him in return.

Bucky seems to read her mind, kicking his jeans and boxers away. “Plenty of time for that later, doll. I need you.” He goes for the bedside table, digs until he finds a condom.

“Is that still good?” Darcy asks. “I mean, it’s been so long…”

Bucky nodded, and to Darcy’s surprise, starts to flush, red across his cheeks and nose. “I, um. I wanted to be prepared, just in case.” He shrugs. “I thought they’d be good to have on hand.”

Darcy smiles softly – always prepared, never pushy, that was her Bucky. “Good call.”

After that, it’s a matter of getting the condom on quickly, and then he’s crawling over her once more, braced above her like he’s been so many times before, and this is when she notices the stark difference. He leans down and kisses her – starts at her forehead, pecks the tip of her nose, and then draws her into a deep, loving kiss.

The thing is, Bucky always made sure that Darcy got hers. It was, she used to consider, his way of somehow apologizing to her for their situation. Now, though, Darcy gets to understand that Bucky is _good_ at sex, in the slow way that he rolls his hips inside of her, the slick slide and drag of his cock as he slowly, meaningfully thrusts into her.

Bucky swears, drops to his elbows so that he can kiss her again. “Doll, I can’t… it’s not gonna be long for me,” he finally says. “Been thinking about this for so long.”

“That’s okay, Buck,” Darcy says, and brings her hands up to his cheeks. “I’m close too. You won’t hurt me, baby, I trust you.”

Bucky breathes out a moan, grips her and _thrusts_ , hard enough that Darcy slides up the bed a little. Suddenly it goes from so good to so much better, and Darcy comes within a few thrusts and a few thrusts only, tightening around him.

The only thing she can do after that is hang on, desperate and a little overstimulated, as Bucky takes and takes in a way that’s somehow satisfying for her too. When he’s finally done, and God bless supersoldier stamina because she’s almost ready to go again, when he practically collapses over her without collapsing on her, Darcy feels like she could curl up happily and never move again.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asks her, still a little breathless, with sweat beading his forehead, and Darcy nods, a grin splitting wide across her face.

“Are you?” she asks in return, and he nods, mirroring her grin.

Yeah, Darcy thinks, as Bucky shifts to hold her close. They’re okay.


End file.
